Sprouting leaves
rustling in the wind like waves
i could stay here for days.
From the ground they raise up
some roots buried deep into the ponds muck.
The tree's creak.
A language only i know how to decipher and speak.
The tree's are strong and i am weak,
but they give me the breath i need.
Their bark sometimes scarred just like my arms,
the son catches my eyes making them more blue,
i swear every tree root
grows inside me too.
My body will grow as tall as the tree's
growing old, and in the wind it creaks.
But i will never be weak
either will the tree's..
The tree is me.